American Horror Story - Season 1-5 E9-5 - Taint
by leaftheweed
Summary: One-shot side-story to Chapter 7. Extremely graphic and possibly triggering. It's what happens when a bunch of dead jocks finally get their hands on the school shooter who murdered them. Rated M for disturbing violence and violent sex. Sensitive readers should skip this one.


_Author's Note: When I was writing Chapter 7, I had to figure out what happened in the weight room in order to learn what frame of mind Tate would be in afterward and how he would react. As such, it's very graphic and might be disturbing/triggering, especially if you like Tate. Some might say it's the least a school shooter deserves. It's all in how you look at it. But you really shouldn't read this unless you can handle graphic descriptions of disturbing violence. This gets really ugly, really fast.  
_

_If you're following Season 1.5 Episode 9, you'll want to read Chapter 7 before this scene. _

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The duct tape made a ripping noise as the jocks wrapped it around Tate's arms, securing them to the weight bench. It ripped again when they used it to bind his thighs. He was belly to bench, knees on the floor, and already praying that what was about to happen would pass quickly. In a few hours it would all be a bad memory to stuff down with the rest and forget about.

They joked and laughed and made fun of him. He felt one of them flip the back of his coat up. He tensed with the urge to struggle but decided not to give them the satisfaction. He knew too much about the way ghosts worked. He knew he wasn't strong enough to break the hold they had and he didn't want to feed their combined strength with fear.

"Oh-oh," Luke said. He was the shortest of the burly teens but still bigger than Tate by at least 3 inches. "Lookit at what Taint was hiding. I guess Kyle didn't pat him down."

Tate had named the handgun John Dillinger and he felt it slide out of his waistband. He bit his tongue so he wouldn't curse out loud. He'd hoped they wouldn't find it. He'd thought about pulling it out when Jason first grabbed him but he didn't have the luxury of self-defense. It was the Patrick situation all over again. If Tate did anything violent, even if only to protect himself, it would prove to everyone that he was the sociopathic lost cause they believed him to be. He hadn't come this far just to blow it all away shooting down some dead asshole jocks a second time.

"Hey, gimme that," said Jason.

There was a small scuffle behind Tate. Then he heard Dillinger's clip come out. After a pause he heard the clip snap back into place. He felt a hand grab his pants at the waistband. With a rough tug his black cargos and underpants left him. He curled his fingers into fists, the only motion the duct tape left his arms capable of. He clenched his teeth to keep from saying anything. Anger and hatred for the other souls grew with each frantic beat of his dead heart.

"Nice piece, Taint," Jason said.

Then he felt the gun, right up against his anus. The press of cold metal in such a private area was enough to make him forget his anger temporarily as fear surged through him. Somewhere off to the right, Luke snorted a laugh.

The gun pressed harder. Tate scrunched his eyes shut and tried to think about anything else. His thoughts flew to Violet then skimmed away. He didn't want her knowing about this, not even in his thoughts. The gun pressed deeper, stretching him uncomfortably. He thought about trick-or-treat. Why trick-or-treat? It was Halloween. Halloween. The gun felt so damned real. Halloween used to be his favorite holiday. Halloween had candy. The gun shoved deeper.

"That's sick," Luke crowed. His tone was pure appreciation.

"Yeah," said Josh, the tallest and skinniest of the three sport-os. "It is." He didn't sound quite as impressed.

"He likes it," said Jason. "Don't ya, Taint?" The guy slapped Tate's ass hard. "Say you like it."

Motherfucker. Tate sucked a breath and held it, eyes open now and glaring at nothing.

Jason waited a few seconds then shoved the gun in deeper, slapping his ass viciously in the same spot. "Say you like it, bitch!"

"Fuck you!" Tate snapped.

Luke made the classic Westfield mooing lackey sound, that sound that told his buddy he'd best defend his honor quick or risk losing man points.

"Fuck me?" Jason responded, rising to the challenge. He wasn't going to talked down to by someone who'd taken his life. "Uh-uh. Fuck _you_."

He shoved the handgun in as far as it could go and pulled the trigger.

Pain lanced through Tate where the red-hot bullet went and exploded somewhere near his left lung. He hacked up blood and heard the gun fire two more times. Pain overlapped pain. Blood was gushing out his mouth like he was puking. He was drowning in it.

The world went black for a while.

...

When he came to, he was still in the same position as before and in tremendous amounts of pain. Not only were his insides all torn up from gunfire, someone was ramming something up his ass. It was rough and splintery and it made him scream. It was a ragged sound that brought up more blood. Blessedly, he blacked out and died again.

...

When he regained consciousness again he was still strapped to the weight bench. The nightmare seemed to have no end. He tensed but nothing seemed to be happening except amazing amounts of pain. Tate focused in on the worst of it, working as quickly as his taxed stamina would allow. He was already tapped from the head wound he'd pulled together earlier. Now he sort of wished he hadn't fixed it. Being half-lobotomized had brought with it a tranquility of stupidity that he would appreciate now.

The pain was easing in his lower half so he put his attention to mending his ripped up lungs. And that's when Jason shoved his big black dick up Tate's ass. He'd already tried twice before the taped-down teen came around but blood made poor lube so he'd had to have Josh scrounge up some massage oil from the locker room's first aid supply room. The oil helped but the guy was well-hung and sex-deprived. It didn't hurt Tate as much as the mop handle had earlier but it wasn't fun either. And it effectively put a stop to his healing process.

"Oh, yeah," Jason purred as he slammed his cock deep in the white boy's ass. "Tight as a Catholic school girl."

Tate tried to focus on the pain, not on the degrading words, but he could still feel his face going red. His fingers curled into fists again as he bit back the urge to yell. He couldn't help the grunts the bigger guy was forcing from him. He tried but he couldn't stop himself. The effort made his eyes drip a lot.

"Hey, let me have a go," Luke said.

Tate wished he hadn't healed at all. He felt Jason pull out then felt another yet significantly smaller dick take his place. Luke started to pump into him with the same fervor as his buddy. Tate laughed.

Luke paused. "What the fuck are you laughing at, you stupid little bitch?"

Tate turned his head. He couldn't see Luke very well because of the way his bloody blond hair was obscuring his view but he grinned anyway. "I heard of pencil dicks before but I never thought they were real."

That made Jason laugh. It was, in an unintended way, a compliment to his own size. Luke did not find it funny at all. He pounded the smaller teen for all he was worth but Tate couldn't take him seriously. He managed to keep from laughing again mostly because he didn't want to piss anyone off more while he was still taped down. But it was pretty funny, to him, just then.

The guy got his rocks off and pulled out. Tate let his forehead rest against the bench and prayed again that it would end. He didn't pray often. He'd mostly given up on it years ago. But he did now. Tears slipped through his upper eyelashes and into his eyebrows. It felt weird. He thought about trying to heal more but he was really worn out, thirsty and miserable. Pain was a convenient distraction from all that.

"Hey, you want a go?" Jason asked.

"Nah, man," said Josh. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," said Josh, sounding sure but not judgmental.

"More for me," Jason said with a grin in his voice. He swiped more oil on and shoved his dick into his murderer again.

...

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Author's note:

Wow. You made it through all that? I hope you're not too traumatized. You can't say I didn't warn you though. If you read this as a one-shot you might want to check out the bigger fanfic it came from. You can find American Horror Story - Season 1.5 and all its episodes in my Profile here. If you've already been reading along, get back to the Episode so you can find out how this whole mess ends.


End file.
